


Not Just Good - Good Enough

by Batagur



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-05
Updated: 2010-12-05
Packaged: 2017-10-13 13:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batagur/pseuds/Batagur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gift of the knowledge of the Ancients gave too much to Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Just Good - Good Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princessofg](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=princessofg).



> Prompt:
> 
>  
> 
> * 1. hurt/comfort with injured Jack
> 
> * 2. feelings revealed by accident with repercussions between Jack and Daniel
> 
> * Optional Request: firmly tied to an episodic injury (Heroes, Devil You Know, etc)
> 
> * Restriction #1: OOC Sam
> 
> * Restriction #2: all-wise-mentor!Teal'c
> 
> Notes:Betaed by the incomparable [info]amazonx.
> 
> ( _“*words*”_ represent words spoken in Ancient)
> 
> ( _~thoughts~_ represent thoughts and notions conveyed through empathy)

**The Fifth Race**  
It had been disturbing when Jack had started spouting random words in a language of which Daniel had only a glancing understanding. When Jack had become very quiet and started writing base 8 math across the blackboard in his lab, Daniel had found that development mildly alarming. When Jack had finally confessed softly to him in very slow and careful English, “This is killing me,” Daniel had found that unendurable.

Looking at Jack now, Daniel didn’t just see a familiar face with brooding eyes and firm mouth that smiled, frowned, and smirked with so much resolve. He just saw another thing that life had denied him.  
Daniel did not have the comfort of his parents or any real relatives; he had been denied the happiness of wife and family, deprived of the honors and privileges of his educational achievements, and even stripped of whatever comfort and support his wife’s family had given him. Why should the relative unfairness of life stop there? Here was another twist: get a best friend, become attracted to him, fall in love with him, and always be aware that you will never, ever have him for more reasons than you care to contemplate.

Janet came in that evening and confirmed their worst fear.

“…the computer could shut down all together,” she said using Daniel’s computer download analogy to describe Jack’s current prognosis.

Jack had looked up at Daniel from where he rested his head against his arms with a silent, hopeless look of ‘I told you so.’

Daniel spent that night on base. Jack was restless. Neither of them could or would sleep. In slow, careful enunciation, they began to communicate. Jack’s voice was so low and soft, and Daniel could hear the hesitation and fear. Jack didn’t want this, of course, but since they were here, at this point, there was no denying the use of it. Daniel felt guilty whenever a spike of triumph stole into those late hours of translation. This was an incredible break through… but at what cost?

“You’re tired, Jack. Let’s take a break,” Daniel said after he watched Jack rub his eyes for the umpteenth time.

 _“*You do not have to do this.*”_

“I want to,” Daniel rejoined without hesitation.

 _“*I cannot rest.*”_

“OK,” Daniel said.

 _“*No more guilt,*”_ Jack said.

“Excuse me?” Daniel blinked. He looked at Jack closely, but Jack merely turned his face away. In the low light of his desk lamp, Jack’s face was masked in shadow that seemed to etch out his anguish. His gaze was sullen and distant, and Daniel wanted to reach for him, both figuratively and physically. Daniel could only imagine the loneliness in Jack’s mind as this alien download slowly cut him off from everyone around him. And Daniel knew he was Jack’s last, best hope to communicate. In Daniel’s secret heart, the sight of Jack, in pain and slipping further away, was revitalizing the despair that rode shot gun on the rollercoaster of his life.

 _“*No more guilt,*”_ Jack whispered slowly. “Ne… futis… Guilt… stop… Grr!” his frustration came to an apex as he thumped the desktop with both fists and growled.

“Easy, Jack!” Daniel said. “It’s OK.”

They were quiet then. Everything about Jack stilled in the silence of the room. Daniel watched, holding his breath for a moment while curbing his own frustration and worry. He let out a swift, quiet sigh. The light of the soft white bulb in the desk lamp touched the silver in Jack’s hair, making him shine like some haloed, enigmatic patron saint of despondency. Jack turned his head slightly away from Daniel and his eyes slid closed.

 _“*Yes. Rest.*”_

Daniel sighed, relieved that Jack was admitting his fatigue. “I’ll make some coffee, but you try to take a nap,” Daniel suggested, motioning to the small couch half buried in books.

 _“*No sleep.*”_

“OK, don’t take a nap… but just clear your mind. Rest,” Daniel suggested as he stood. He watched Jack shift back in his chair, eyes still closed. Jack lifted his arms up over his eyes. Exhaustion and desolation mixed subtly to line his face, making him astonishingly more striking. Jack was always beautiful when he was under pressure. Daniel turned away and put his attention to brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

 _“*You sleep.*”_ Jack’s voice, muffled by his arms was still full of that soft hesitation.

That was not an option, Daniel thought. He wouldn’t leave Jack like this. Jack wasn’t in any physical pain; it wasn’t even a tangible threat. But it was real, and Jack was suffering. Daniel knew that for all the times Jack had stood by him in his moments of pain, fear, and despair, staying with him was the very least he owed in return. Moreover, Daniel couldn’t sleep while his love was in distress. He wouldn’t sleep. It was a given, unavoidable, and an inevitability.

Daniel scooped fresh grounds into the new paper filter. Ten cups worth should do. He lifted the carafe and looked at the dregs of the last pot brewed that afternoon.

“I’m fine,” Daniel said in a tone that even convinced himself. He turned holding the carafe. As he made his way to the small sink, he glanced over at Jack. Jack was peeking at him through his crossed arms. Daniel could see concern and hesitation in his eyes and wondered what it was that Jack couldn’t express. At the best of times, Jack wasn’t good at sharing the free-fall of emotions that could place him in a virtual chokehold. Now, their language divide was too great. It was getting greater. Every minute of every hour, it was getting greater.

Daniel turned on the hot tap and filled the carafe, swirling the water. His mind drifted over new verbs that he had learned from his time with Jack. The language of the gate builders was very much like Latin. There was a shift of pronunciation that was much more distinct than the shifts from classical to medieval to church Latin. It was fascinating and Daniel was incredibly thankful to have this opportunity. This was probably the greatest accomplishment of translation he had achieved since the Abydos cartouche. It would have been an exciting moment except…

 _“*No more guilt,*”_ Jack said once more, stopping Daniel’s train of thought.

Daniel turned to look at Jack. He was still seated with his arms up, covering his eyes and his mouth hanging ajar. Jack swallowed and closed his mouth. A tiny point of panic flashed through Daniel, making him pull his spine straight. Jack was telling him to not feel guilty for taking pleasure in cracking this language?

Jack knew he felt guilty? Did he know? Could he know?

Jack gave an explosive sigh and pulled his arms down. He shook his head as he lowered his face into his hands. He began to rub his temples and Daniel could see the distress in his eyes and in the tight thin line of his mouth.

Daniel put the carafe down in the sink and walked slowly to Jack’s side.

“You can feel what I’m feeling?” Daniel asked in a slightly strained whisper.

Jack shook his head and sighed again.

“You can read my mind?” Daniel’s question was a bit stronger this time.

Jack dropped his hands and looked up at Daniel with an expression that was unreadable in some ways, and yet clearly frustrated. Jack stood abruptly and pushed past Daniel, heading for the door.

“Jack, no…”

“Solunus.”

“Uh… solunus? Solunus… sol…. Solus? Alone? No, Jack….”

In spite of Daniel’s pleas, Jack was gone, fleeing the cluttered lab in apparent agitation. Daniel was halfway to the door, prepared to pursue when he remembered the fatigue that lined Jack’s face along with the frustration. Perhaps Jack could rest away from him. Perhaps he would rest alone.

Daniel shuffled over to the couch and dropped down on the only clear space. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. He awoke when Sam gently shook his shoulder. It was 7 AM and the probes were transmitting telemetry. She had something to show him.  
~*~

When he stood with Jack in the gateroom, Daniel knew that Jack could feel what he was feeling, because, somehow, he could feel Jack as well. It wasn’t clear thoughts; it was an empathy that felt like Jack was holding his mind in a cushion of careful emotions. Daniel knew Jack had to go. This was good. This was meant to be. Don’t worry.

He ran up the ramp to stand next to Jack as he hesitated on the event horizon. There was no coming back if Jack went. He needed Jack to understand. He needed Jack to know.

Jack looked into his eyes for a long moment and the cushion of emotions became warmth in Daniel’s soul, a whispered comfort that soothed and told him that everything was going to be all right. Don’t worry. Daniel stood stunned as he felt his love for Jack returned in that brief moment. He knew it was no mere chance that he had stayed with Jack through it all. Jack chose his soul mate, and Daniel had followed. Daniel was the one and only mind that Jack knew he could reach when all other communication failed. There was regret that he could not take Daniel with him, but there was no fear.

 _~It’ll be all right.~_

Then Jack turned and he was gone.  
~*~

When Jack stepped back through the stargate, Daniel knew that it was gone. That subtle awareness that had grown to a cocoon of love and trust at that very last moment was lost in the ether of the wormhole, and Daniel had to wonder if perhaps he had imagined it.

Teal’c had asked him if he still had the knowledge of the Ancients and Jack had answered pleasantly, “Nope.”

He then added in Daniel’s direction, “Don’t remember a thing.”

But then Jack smiled and there was peacefulness in his smile as he spoke of the-meaning-of-life-stuff. Then it was off to the infirmary and then to the debriefing, both of which were a blur of confused moments to Daniel, but Jack seemed to take it as a comforting relief that normalcy had been restored to his little world.

In the debriefing, neither man mentioned the empathy. Daniel was no longer sure it had really happened at all. Jack spoke of the whole incident as confusing and frustrating and he couldn’t be certain of any single thing he said or did. All he knew and all he spoke of was the Asgard, and that was as it should have been, Daniel surmised. That was the single most important discovery they had achieved from the entire ordeal. Daniel let the idea of the empathy go.

Maybe Jack did tell him that everything would be all right, but maybe he had done that with only the caring expression of his eyes. Maybe the rest was Daniel’s wishful thinking combined with sleep deprivation, hunger and a high amount of caffeine in his blood.

Later, after a shower and a change into his street clothing, Daniel finally felt it truly sinking in: crisis averted and a weekend off to commence. He stopped by his lab before he left to grab a few books. Before he was done, Jack knocked softly on his open door.

“Hey, Daniel?” Jack was also wearing street clothing and obviously on his way topside to start his doctor recommended weekend of rest and light activity. Daniel looked at him, pausing with two heavy lexicons and morphologies of ancient Greek and Etruscan in his grasp.

“Jack?”

“Gonna do some light reading, I see,” Jack commented, nodding his head towards the books.

Daniel looked down at the books still in his grasp. “Oh… Um… I was just going to see if there were crossover roots….”

“Yeah,” Jack sighed quickly and interrupted, “I’m sure it’s fascinating. Look, I just wanted to tell you…”

Jack stalled out and Daniel looked up at him expectantly. “Jack?”

“Ah…” Jack looked a little flustered, but only for a moment. He closed his mouth and blinked a few times. Daniel worried that Jack would abandon saying whatever it was that he intended to say. However, after shifting his weight on his feet and clearing his throat, Jack took a breath and said, “You’re a good friend, Daniel.”

Jack looked so apologetic at that moment that Daniel’s mouth went dry in apprehension. This wasn’t just Jack thanking him for standing by him during a dark time. This was Jack saying it, but not saying it. This was the acknowledgment couched in a display of reaffirmation of the status quo. This was Jack subtly saying, “I didn’t mean to turn you on.”

Daniel took a deep breath and swallowed his initial reaction. “Thank you.”

Good friend was good enough. He had to put things in perspective. They walked to the elevators together talking lightly about how they would spend their well earned days off.

**Heroes**  
It took Janet’s death and Jack’s brush with mortality to shake Daniel’s resolve again. But, then again, he realized that he had continued to be pretty transparent up to the day he ascended. And, from what he learned from mission reports, he continued to be just as transparent even while finding his so-called “own path”. That path always led him back to Jack.

Jack lay in an infirmary bed, lightly sedated. His ribs were cracked and there was a laceration on his left lung that the medical staff was watching. Pneumonia was a real possibility and for that reason, Jack was hooked to an IV with prophylactic antibiotics. Daniel had left the company of Emmett Bregman and made his way down to the infirmary, where the overwhelming emotion of the day was shock. At every turn in the corridor on that level, Daniel heard the muffled sounds of weeping and soft, grief-filled voices comforting. These people had lost their CO. Daniel took moment to wonder at the fact that he had not lost his own CO.

“Hey,” Jack said as Daniel approached his bedside.

“Hey yourself.” It was their standard greeting when life got a little heavy. Jack looked worn and drowsy, but not in a drugged kind of way. There were dark circles under his eyes. Night was coming up on the surface of Cheyenne Mountain, but the dark was already here deep within. Daniel sat down next to Jack and wished.

“What ‘cha thinkin’, Daniel?” Jack asked softly.

“About Janet,” Daniel lied.

“Me too,” Jack said in a rough voice. He then gave a small cough as if to clear his throat.

Daniel grabbed the water that sat at the bedside table and brought the straw to Jack’s lips. Jack took a long sip and swallowed with a thoughtful sigh as he settled back on his pillow. Jack looked up at him, their eyes met for a long, indefinable moment, and Daniel felt something pass between them that he couldn’t deny. Nevertheless, Daniel broke eye contact first and looked at his watch. He opened his mouth to make some excuse.

“Daniel.” Jack caught his attention before he could speak. “You’re a good friend,” he said.

Daniel frowned and then blinked. His head unable to pull together any coherent answer, Daniel stood, wrapping his arms about himself. He walked away. It wasn’t until he was back in his lab that Daniel understood what had just happened. That was Jack reassuring him, letting Daniel know that he wasn’t going anywhere. The cut had come close to home, but home was still intact.

His good friend was alive, and for now, that would have to be good enough.

**Lost City**  
Jack had thrown Daniel back. The force of their momentum had crashed them against the pillar. Off balance, Daniel had slid down hard, sitting on the packed dirt. Jack had followed him down, squatting by his side. He had put a hand to Daniel’s chest to restrain him.

“In fact, you’re the one person who can’t do it!” Jack had then launched himself into what he knew would become his oblivion.

Daniel could not have done it. That had been a complicated truth that Jack had had to deal with by himself. It had been much more than just the concept of Daniel as a strategic asset. Jack knew that beyond language, beyond any physical means of communication, no matter how far gone he became, he would always reach Daniel. Daniel’s was the one mind in the whole universe to which he was indelibly linked by something more potent and more resilient than friendship.

Daniel had eventually believed that the empathy had not been real, and Jack had let Daniel believe that. It had been very real, and if Daniel had experienced it through the download, he would have known. Then good enough would never have been just enough.

Furthermore, if they could not gain the help of the Asgard, Jack could not, and would not watch Daniel’s mind be pulled apart by that thing. Jack had wished in that last moment that he could have said at least that much to him, but he had to keep ‘the line’ intact.

The first time he had done it, the realization of others’ emotions had come slowly, as had everything else. At first Jack had thought it was just a delusion in the whirling delirium that was one bad Ancient-device-induced trip. Then he realized that what he was sensing and feeling was not his own emotions, but the emotions of the others around him. He could feel them if he wanted to. It was like turning to look at someone’s face… or not. Every person was distinct and had their own flavor.

Jack had to admit, the sensation of feeling his friends and team mates so deeply was pleasant in a very comforting way. Nevertheless, being pretty uncomfortable with dealing with his own emotions, Jack tried not to let on that he was feeling anyone else’s. He had enough drama going on in his head at the moment.

Jack hadn’t realized how deeply he had always loved Daniel until that day back at the SGC as they picked through the sounds and symbols crowding his mind. It had also been at that moment that it had occurred to Jack that the empathy was real. He had felt Daniel’s love for him and Daniel’s guilt for loving him and for wanting more. As the idea slowly sunk into his own heart, Jack had felt something give way. Something shook itself loose in his mind that had been flying pretty well under the radar. It had taken him by surprise. As suddenly as Jack had known that Daniel was in love with him, his own knee-jerk response had been to love Daniel right back. Jack’s love had been unexpectedly just as strong. It had blossomed inside him between heartbeats and had become an almost devastatingly living thing.

Jack had felt the guilt Daniel carried for loving Jack, for caring, for wanting to be with Jack, and for working with Jack while deceiving him and everyone around him from how he felt. He has felt his guilt for feeling his love grow for another while his wife was still a host to a Goa’uld and living a life that was comparable in some ways to torture. Jack had felt Daniel’s guilt for turning tragedy into opportunity in his lab that long, late night. Jack had wanted Daniel to stop feeling guilty.

That seemed a life time ago. Certainly Daniel had expended a few of his nine lives in between there and then. Unfortunately, nothing in their world had changed enough to ever make that love a do-able option. Yet that same love was that one truth that linked their minds and their lives, possibly forever.

When Jack had told Carter on their voyage to Proclarush Taonas that he knew, he had used the empathy to reassure her that he understood how much she respected and cared for him. When he had touched Teal’c, he had let him feel the strength of brotherhood he felt for him.

His last message to Daniel had been in his “goodbye.”

 _~You’re a good friend… No regrets. No guilt. ~_

As the stasis field activated, his last conscious thoughts were to mourn that even at what could possibly be the end of it all, he still had gave Daniel just good enough.

End


End file.
